The Man From World War I
by Segunda Katigbak
Summary: Kyouya flirts. She doesn't seem to notice.


**The Man from World War I**

**BY: MYLiFE'SBOAT**

This is a disclaimer.

**Summary:** Kyouya flirts. She doesn't seem to notice.

o-o-o-o-o

For centuries, Rome has been called the Eternal City, a title earned through its importance as one of the great cities of Western civilization, as the capital of the Roman Empire, and as the world center of the Roman Catholic Church.

Ootori Kyouya was never a Catholic. Religion always failed to fascinate him. Even with his own--he wasn't really sure if he actually belonged to one. As much as he was concerned, it has not once affected his daily routines so he never cared. All that mattered to him was his car, his life, and his career.

It must be a present, he tried to convince himself. It was his birthday last week (an eventful one if he might add) and Fuyumi had dragged him along the West coast on their private jet. She said she needed someone to accompany her for the shopping of baby clothes but that's probably just an excuse. She's only three weeks pregnant with her second child and she doesn't even have any idea about the baby's gender so what the hell.

But it was his sister he's talking about. She never fails to puzzle him. If there was one person Kyouya can misread, it was Fuyumi.

It was a busy street. People moved about and cars suddenly appear on curbs when Kyouya left the hotel for a short morning stroll. He can endure walking for now, since his car was left behind on Fuyumi's excitement about the trip. It irritated him in a way but he was left with no option but to comply. She threatened to blackmail him. Again.

He didn't mind much. It seemed a lot better to walk around and snap pictures than to drive around without anything else to do. At least, he had a camera draped around his neck.

Sometimes, Kyouya can be nostalgic but in a secretive way. It must be a weakness so he never showed anyone that sentimental side he had. Besides, one's weakness is always another person's strength. It was a pronouncement in business and he believed in that.

Kyouya has always been obscured behind the shadows of his brothers who were before him. Probable reason why he does all it takes to succeed in any undertaking. He graduated in middle school with top grades. He became an honor student in high school and he had the highest overall average in the university. It was the typical Ootori Kyouya known by other people. It was the typical Ootori Kyouya he showed.

He was a mean, manipulative and the most intimidating bastard planet earth has ever known.

The traffic lights changed and Kyouya crossed the street. The sidewalk was strewn with stalls and vendors were busy advertising their small enterprise. It quite amazed him how contented they were on their simple lifestyle. He walked past them and he sauntered his way up to the other shops behind stands.

A small photo studio stood humbly between a pastry house and a boutique.

Ever since Kyouya was a child, he got himself involved with the arts. Painting, music, photography. It used to be a hobby, until it became a lifestyle. He held a large art gallery at the center of downtown Tokyo and some of the artworks that scattered the walls were made by him. It was a fulfillment for him and he's never trade anything for it.

A tinkling sound played on his ears when he stepped inside. It was petite photo studio with a hint of novelty and an immature atmosphere. The cameras were arranged in a neat line on a raised surface on one side of the shop and the other equipments were place inside a glass shell beneath it.

There was hardly any staff and one uniformed blonde battled against a small girl with an Italian tongue. He could have stepped out instantly and left it alone but before he can open the door to leave, he had stopped himself and approached the bickering couple and butted in.

The girl was Japanese, with brown hair and large pools of hazel eyes. She was muttering strangely about how these Italians doesn't even know English when Rome is actually filled with tourists and Kyouya felt quite amused.

"Do you need help?" Kyouya asked.

She looked up with a blunt expression on her face and frowned. "Can you speak Italian?"

"Well, of course." A smile played on his lips.

"Well," she started with an irritated look. "Tell this dim-witted blonde that I'm not going to buy any of his products anymore and his cameras look like they've been excavated from a sanitary landfill!"

Wow, that was quite a word. Kyouya opened his mouth but before he could speak, she stormed out of the shop and slammed the door behind. The Italian guy behind the counter shouted profanities on his ear and complained loudly how aggravating Asians are. Kyouya ignored him and rushed out of the door.

She was marching furiously on the sidewalk and he was just in time to catch up with her before she can cross the street. He grabbed her wrist and she spun her head around.

"What do you want?" She was still annoyed with that photo studio but Kyouya pushed the thought away.

His smiled--the one which captures any girl's heart--and she seemed to have softened a bit.

"I really don't think you can survive for a couple of more days here while arguing with Italians," he said. She gave him a glare.

"And who are you?"

"Adolf Hitler."

It was the first name that came to his mind. She already spoke before he can change his mind.

"I'm sorry, I don't know you." She tried to pull her hand away but he gripped it tighter.

A pastry house stood humbly beside the photo studio.

"Might you join me for a cup of coffee and try to know me better?" Because you're kinda cute and amusing, little girl.

She raised an eyebrow before she considered it. She thought for a moment and spoke. "Is there cake?"

"There could be." He loosened his grasp and pulled away. She didn't run. "There could be not. Would you care to find out?"

"I don't talk to strangers."

"I'm Adolf Hitler."

Well, since you're Japanese and you're the only person I can understand and you look kinda cute with the glasses, "Well, all right. I'll see if there's cake."

o-o-o-o-o

They sat across each other on a small round table near the window. The morning coffee was served and there was cake. Kyouya enjoyed watching her munch over the pastry.

She was Fujioka Haruhi. She came over to Rome for a friend's wedding (trip sponsored by her friend) and it was her second day. Since everyone else was busy for the preparations for tomorrow, she decided to take a walk until she ended up in a photo studio and argued with a dim-witted blonde behind the counter.

"You interest me," he spoke out loud. Haruhi forked a strawberry and popped it inside her mouth.

"Oh, is that so?" She wiped icing off her plate with the same fork and licked it clean.

Kyouya was flirting. She didn't seem to notice.

He waited until she finished with her food before he spoke. "I really think you we should go out."

She dropped the fork and sipped from her cup. "And why is that?"

"Because we look good together."

"Seriously, you don't just pick up girls and ask them for a date do you? This isn't Paris."

"But you interest me," he repeated.

She merely chuckled. His hand cupped his chin and a smirk played on his lips. They were still for a moment and Kyouya enjoyed the minute of silence.

Her phone beeped distractingly and she pulled it out of her pocket. Haruhi excused herself and left to answer her call. It was her friend.

A minute later, she came back and he was gone. A card was left on the table and their orders were already paid. She shrugged it off and collected her things for a leave. She stepped out of the pastry house and inhaled in the late morning breeze.

o-o-o-o-o

Their second meeting was of pure coincidence. No, really it is.

Kyouya had stepped in front of her when she had finished struggling her way through the thick crowd that flooded the lobby of the airport. Fuyumi had insisted the day before that they should travel through public airlines back to Tokyo. No, really it was Fuyumi's fault. He obliged since he was left with not enough power to argue back. She's going to win in the end anyway.

"Adolf Hitler, what a coincidence." She didn't seem to be interested with his presence. She looked around to search for her friends.

"Have you thought about it?" They have met just two days ago.

"Thought about what?" She wrinkled her eyebrows and bit her lip. Kyouya thought it was cute.

She was just a simple girl.

"About going out with me?"

Rich men never fall in love. Flings may be there once in a while but there was never anything serious. He had never fallen in love. It seemed to have been one of his past times dating different girls.

She's just one of those girls.

He aimed a smile that he knew would always work for these types.

"Are you really Adolf Hitler?" He chuckled at this.

"Seriously," he said. "You really are interesting."

Haruhi frowned and craned her neck. She really didn't seem interested with this guy. "I should be going."

Kyouya had stopped her. "If I tell you my real name, would you go out with me?"

If she agrees, he can give up easily. If she doesn't, that's a different question.

"Sorry, but I don't go out with strangers." She pulled her hand away and before he could protest, she had already disappeared among the thick crowd.

Haruhi was different

Kyouya pulled his phone out of his pocket and phoned Tachibana. He can find her in an hour.

He always loved solving logic and mystery. The more difficult it is, the more he gets agitated to crack it. Perhaps Haruhi can be those one of these puzzles he can unfold.

Perhaps. Well, he can always give it a try. She could be, he thought solemnly. She could be not. He could always take a step further and find out.

o-o-o-o-o

END

I just noticed. I enjoy leaving some one-shots hanging in the end.

It depends on the reviews if this one can be justified for a sequel.

Would you guys agree with that?

Meanwhile, please do fill in my review link with opinions.

Thanks, guys!


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